WORST THING ABOUT FIVE ROOMMATES: EVERYONE IS ALWAYS ASKING WHAT YOU'RE WATCHING, WHAT YOU'RE EATING, WHAT YOU'RE DOING, WHEN YOU'RE GOING TO WORK, IF THEY CAN HAVE ONE OF YOUR BEERS, ETC.

TWO HOURS OF PEACE AND QUIET PLEASE.

UPDATE

So since I've been in Colorado, my only real challenge has been finding consistent employment (which is a huge problem, obviously.) Right now I'm nannying part-time which I love and now I've landed another part-time job working for this guy. He's a total badass. I'll be doing some work helping him gear up for the election, including some canvassing (but no fundraising, thank god). So I'm feeling pretty good about those things, but I am just dying to find a full-time, well paying job. Maybe that's too much to ask for in a college town, but I'm gonna keep throwing my resume out there.

In other news, Renee came to visit and we had SO MUCH FUN. I don't think it could've been a better weekend. I've been camping a lot. I've been hanging out with Rob and his sister a lot. Oh! And my parents bought me plane tickets to go to Virginia for a week for Thanksgiving. So I'll get to meet Rob's crazy family, which I'm SO excited for.

That's me going down the slide at the end of the New Belgium brewery tour! It's really scary and it hurts, but I didn't care cuz I was SMASHED!

P.s. Who's Ross? We were together for almost two years. I can't even remember him.

Pictures

Tonight I looked at every single picture of myself on facebook. That's crazy and compulsive but I did it. I hardly recognize myself in most of them. I dyed my hair and did so much weird shit to myself for so long. And I was pretty fucking unhappy. I mean, I had wonderful friends like Renee and Tom throughout all of it. They will always and forever be my best friends. But I lost myself completely in these abusive (in many ways) relationships. I also think I used to look a lot cuter. Skinnier and blonder or whatever. And now, I don't really give a fuck what I look like. But I've never gotten more compliments than I have recently. And not about my tits or my hair or whatever, but about my character, and my humor, and my voice, my laugh. I am more myself than ever before. I thought I found that my freshman year of college. I was wrong. I was with Frankie and that was my identity. And now I'm in this relationship in which we share friends and experiences and yet maintain our own identities. And that's growing up, I suppose.

p.s. This will be interesting to read tomorrow. I'm drunk as SHIT.

ALL I WANT IS YOU

what happens when hippies mow the lawn

here we aren't, so quickly

Finally delved into the June 14 fiction issue of the New Yorker. Jonathan Safran Foer's "Here We Aren't, So Quickly" unexpectedly caused my eyes to well with tears. A lovely, melancholy story chronicling a relationship.

Some favorite lines:

You couldn't tolerate people who couldn't tolerate babies on planes. I couldn't tolerate people who insisted that having a coffee after lunch would keep them up all night. At a certain point I could hear my knees and felt no need to correct other people's grammar. How can I explain why foreign cities came to mean so much to me?At a certain point you stopped agonizing over your ambitiousness, but at a certain point you stopped trying. I couldn't tolerate magicians who did things that someone who actually had magical powers would never do....

...I changed and changed, and with more time I will change more. I'm not disappointed, just quiet. Not unthinking, just restless. Not willfully unclear, just trying to say it as it wasn't. The more I remember, the more distant I feel. We reached the middle so quickly. After everything it's like nothing. I have always never been here. What a shame it wasn't easy. What a waste of what? What a joke. But come. Be beside me somewhere: on the split stools of this bar, by the edge of this cliff, in the seats of this borrowed car, at the prow of this ship, on the all-forgiving cushions of this threadbare sofa in this one-story copper-crying fixer upper whose windows we once squinted through for hours before coming to our senses: "What would we even do with such a house?"